


Oblation

by MiladyMorningstar (PrincessPestilence)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Antisemitism, F/M, Female Gabriel (Supernatural), Gabriel in a Female Vessel (Supernatural), Human Sacrifice, Mildly Dubious Consent, Neo-Paganism, Non-Consensual Bondage, Paganism, Racism, The Ninth Gate (1999) - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:34:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27248890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessPestilence/pseuds/MiladyMorningstar
Summary: Noun, :a thing presented or offered to God or a god:
Relationships: Gabriel/Sam Winchester
Kudos: 8





	Oblation

**Author's Note:**

> This was hard to write, but it's been floating around my head for a few years now. As a Lokean myself, this is not an accurate depiction of Norse Heathenry, although it is an ongoing struggle to rid the space of White Nationalistic influences.

Sam Winchester is the unluckiest man in the world. 

Seriously, he thinks he’s legitimately cursed. 

No one else would get kidnapped on the way home from a perfectly mundane salt and burn. 

He was alone, because of course he was. Dean and Castiel had gone up to Montana to take care of some kitsune while Sam stayed and tackled some local vengeful spirits back in Kansas. Ordinarily, something he was more than capable of handling on his own. 

And it really was. The spirit in Salina wasn’t so much a danger as an inconvenience and Sam returned to his motel with little more than a scraped knee. It was after he had returned that the trouble hit. Or rather, that Sam ran into it headlong. 

Pulling into the parking lot of the Motel 6, Sam saw a group of tall figures wrestling someone into the back seat of a silver sedan. His own borrowed hybrid screeched to a halt and Sam leapt out beside the group, already groping for his gun. 

“Hey!” he yelled, distracting three of the four large men, but not the one holding the writhing woman, pushing her, handcuffed, into the car. 

Sam got a glimpse of curly, chin-length hair and olive skin before he had three guns waving under his nose. All the men were armed and ready and Sam hesitated, outmanned and outgunned. The split second of hesitation was long enough though, and the next thing Sam knew he was falling hard to the asphalt and being struck hard on the back of the head. 

Falling forward he heard one of the men demanding, “Somebody grab him!” but darkness swept in before the order was carried out

*

Sam blinked awake to the muffled screams of the woman from the sedan. 

Turning his head toward the noise, he saw the petite woman was tied to a folding table with a coarse rope wound tight around her small frame. Sam himself was spreadeagled on a sturdier wooden dining table, his hands handcuffed to the legs and feet tied with the same rope that held the woman. Clearly, they had only prepared for one abduction and Sam won out with the better supplies due to his size and apparent strength. 

Lucky him. 

Both his and the woman’s mouths were duct-taped, but Sam grunted loudly, trying to get the man tying the rope to leave her alone and focus his attention on Sam. It didn’t work, however. 

“He’s awake,” the man called. He had a brown buzzcut and wore a tan Carhartt coat. “Are you sure we should do this with both of them?”

Another man, taller with broader shoulders and a completely shaved head sporting tattoos Sam couldn’t make out from this angle, and a long beard turned to look at them from where he was crouched on the floor with what Sam could smell was a can of spray-paint. 

“We gotta get rid of him anyway. Might as well let him be useful,” explained Skinhead. 

Another man, tall but thin with a blond undercut and scruffy stubble piped up. “And you’re sure this will work? Why didn’t we just stick to what we usually do?” he waffled doubtfully. 

Skinhead scowled. “I told you, this is a first-hand resource. It’ll work. What’s the use of sacrificing to an absent god?”

Oh fuck him, it’s a cult. Summoning a pagan god. Sam  _ hated  _ pagan gods. He was viscerally reminded of the Vanir he ran into shortly after Jess had died and couldn’t help but break out into a cold sweat at the thought of facing it again, helpless as he was. 

He wriggled around, trying to test the limits of his restraints but there was no give, no vulnerability for him to exploit to get himself free and to top it off they had taken his gun and knives. 

Looking over toward the woman, left alone now that she was secured, Sam was surprised to see that she was calm. Her cheeks were wet, but her eyes looked clear, and when she looked in his direction she just blinked slowly and Sam got the feeling she was trying to comfort  _ him _ . 

Her serenity only resulted in him struggling harder to free himself, just hoping that they didn’t decide to slit their throats and be done with them.. 

Sam didn’t have long to work, however, as the men had clearly been prepared. Having finished up their preparation, they oriented themselves around what could only have been a summoning circle, with Skinhead standing between Sam and the woman who were situated on what was serving as dual altars to whatever god they intended to summon. 

Skinhead chanted in a language Sam couldn’t quite parse. Whatever it was that he was reading certainly spared the bullshit because it was short and sweet.

And efficient, for between one blink and the next the circle was occupied. All the men, barring Skinhead himself took a startled step back.

“What the fuck?!” said the shorter, bear-looking man in the far corner from Sam.

“How the hell did you get out?!” shouted Buzzcut and, straining his neck, Sam could see that standing in the summoning circle was, in fact, the woman Sam had been trying to rescue. 

“Wellll,” the woman started in a sweet, high pitched voice, “you all summoned me, obviously. Sorry about all this, by the way, Sammy, I didn’t mean for you to get dragged into this.”

Okay, well he’d apparently met the woman - goddess? - before, although he couldn’t place her. She was tiny, probably under five feet, curvaceous, and boasted Middle-Eastern or perhaps Jewish features. She didn’t look as sleek and powerful as Kali. Instead, her face was nearly cherubic. She was  _ cute _ . 

“You’re just a Jew bitch! Obviously, being a sacrifice was too good for you,” Skinhead pulled his gun. “So I’ll just take you out right here.”

The goddess rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers, and Skinhead’s gun wilted into a jelly dildo. 

‘ _ Oh thank God _ ,’ Sam thought, finally getting a clue. 

“It’s Loki, actually, if you wanna get specific.”

“Loki is a Norse god,” said undercut, “not some kike!”

Loki -  _ Gabriel  _ \- rolled her eyes, swaying her whole body with the motion in the same way Castiel did. 

“Gods are beyond race and gender you ignorant troglodytes. Why would a divine being care one shiny pink fuck about human ethnopolitics? Blood is blood and flesh is flesh. It’s literally all the same to us. And for the record, when have I ever been consistent with my gender and appearance? Have you read the myths? They don’t exactly paint me as conservative by any definition.” She waved her hand and suddenly she was taller, fairer, and distinctly masculine. “Is this what you were expecting? Tom Hiddleston?” 

And, yup, that was Marvel’s Loki standing before them, with his golden horned helmet. 

“If you can look like anything you want, why show up like  _ that _ ?” asked Buzzcut. 

“I wanted to see what you would do. Sacrificing me to myself? Very Odinesque, I have to admit.”

“You’re really Loki, then?” Skinhead wondered, dismayed. 

“In the flesh.”

Skinhead just shook his head. “No,” he denied. “Not my god.”

Gabriel pouted. “I’m standing here just the way you want me!,” he protested in Tom Hiddleston’s voice. “You worshipped me when you thought I’d be Tom, what makes Bithiah any different?” he asked, and Sam swore there was a Mulan quote buried in there somewhere. 

“We thought you were different!”

“You would forsake the god you’ve devoted your lives to just because I didn’t look like a white man for a few minutes? You do understand that I’m a  _ shapeshifter _ , right?”

“Well…”

“Come on, am I so different than you imagined that you would turn your backs on me? Did you not swear yourselves to Loki? Would you turn away just because of a bit of mischief? Keith?” he asked.

“No…” Undercut acceded. 

“Do you swear yourself to me?” Gabriel prompted.

Keith’s voice wavered. “I swear.”

Gabriel went around the circle like this, prompting Steven and Vincent in turn before coming back to Skinhead whose name was apparently Nathan. 

“Nathan,” Gabriel sighed. “I am Loki god of Mayhem and Mischief. Do you deny me?”

Nathan stood silently, fists clenched and knuckles white. 

“Do you  _ deny  _ me?” Gabriel asked with a rumble of power behind the British actor’s voice, stepping, finally, out of the circle to stand nose to nose with the bald man. 

“No,” Nathan grit out between his teeth. 

“Swear to me.”

After a long pause, Nathan did. “I swear myself to you,” Nathan uttered lowly. 

Gabriel smiled sharkishly. “Good.”

Then, with a snap, all four men burst into a cloud of red vapor. 

Sam screamed behind his duct tape mask. Gabriel rolled his eyes and the gag was gone. “What the fuck, Gabriel!” Sam screeched as Tom Hiddleston melted back into the small woman from before. “They swore!”

“Yes,” Gabriel explained patiently in her high pitched voice, “which meant their souls went to me when they died. They were the ones who called me here for a sacrifice. I don’t make the rules, Sam.”

“You could have just sent them away!”

“No, I really couldn’t have. The rules of a summoning are clear. A sacrifice would have to be made. I just did what I could to make sure that it wasn’t you.”

Sam turned his head away and breathed, trying to calm himself. 

“Look, don’t be angry. They didn’t even feel anything, it was so quick.”

Sam looked back at the woman’s large brown eyes. “What’s with the vessel anyway?” he asked, dropping the subject in surrender. 

Gabriel grinned again. “Sam, meet Bithiah bat Adam, my original vessel.”

Sam blinked. “Daughter of Adam? Like, Adam and Eve, Adam?”

“That’s the one!” she confirmed. 

“I didn’t even know Adam had a daughter.”

“Yeah they didn’t talk about her much. She didn’t really do much, and I took her as a vessel pretty soon after she was married. She actually has a bloodline over in Iran, but I figured why buy new when the original still fits, amiright?”

“What happened to your old vessel?” Sam asked. 

“It was the real Loki’s form, and when he died I lost the ability to shift into him anymore. And since I had been masquerading as Loki for so long, instead of being reborn, all his prayers just went to me, instead. So for all intents and purposes, this really  _ is  _ Loki’s true form now.”

“So what you’re saying is this is going to happen a lot now,” Sam deduced. More would-be worshippers atomized for the crime of offending Loki. 

Gabriel sighed and stroked Sam’s hair. “I can’t control what humans do, Sam.”

“But you can control what  _ you  _ do!”

“Less than you might think, actually. Angels and gods are pretty similar, you know. We have all this power, but we’re still bound by our natures. There’s not a lot of personal growth when you’re stuck in an eternal cycle. I hid myself as a trickster because it was essentially what I already did, but being a god is a lot more binding. If the humans call for a sacrifice, a sacrifice must be made. They would have died anyway if they had left. All I did was make sure their intentions were met. If they had died after recanting their faith, their souls would have gone to hell. Now they get to go to Hel, and their life energy goes to me, just like they wanted. Everybody wins!”

“Hel, the Norse world of the dead?” Sam asked to clarify.

Gabriel nodded. “It’s one of them, yeah. My daughter rules the realm.”

“Your  _ daughter _ ?! -- Look can you let me out of these fucking restraints, I can’t talk to you while I’m flat on my back!”

Gabriel trailed a knuckle down Sam’s sternum. “Mmmn I’d rather not. I kinda like you like this.”

“Gabriel,” Sam growled in warning.

“Oooh, so scary,” she giggled, unbuttoning the top button on Sam’s flannel. “Come on, Sam, it’s hot having you laid out as an offering. Haven’t you ever thought about it? You bound and at my mercy, me riding you. Remember that scene in The Ninth Gate?” she snapped her fingers and the dark, dingy interior of wherever it was the men had taken them transformed into the exterior of a burning castle, Gabriel naked, sitting atop his hips. 

“Jesus Christ!” Sam exclaimed. “Where the hell are we?”

Gabriel shrugged her bare olive shoulders and Sam strained to look away from her perky, round breasts. “I don’t know, fake France? Come ooonnn, Sam!” she whined, rolling her hips directly into Sam’s denim-covered dick. Which was steadily hardening beneath her. 

“Fuck, okay you’re actually serious about this,” Sam strained his neck, pressing himself back into the hard wood of the table. 

“I’m always serious!” Gabriel argued. 

“Well that was the biggest lie I’ve ever heard, but what the fuck ever. Okay, let’s do it.”

With another snap, Sam was naked and he groaned at the feeling of Gabriel’s wet heat against his shaft. Gabriel leaned down, her ample breasts pressing soft against Sam’s chest as she kissed him. Sam arched up, licking past her plush lips as she kept up a slow grind, making Sam moan into her mouth. 

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about,” she gasped, raking her nails down Sam’s chest and stomach as she sat up. Without warning, she grasped his cock in her small hand and sank down to the hilt.

“Fuuuckk!” Sam cried out, pulling at his restraints but unable to gain any leverage.

“You look so fucking good like this, Sammy,” she sighed as she started up a slow roll.

Sam couldn’t deny that it felt good. The adrenaline and excitement went directly to his dick and Gabriel really looked like a goddess like this, sat upon an altar, flames burning high behind them. Sam would never be able to watch this movie again.

Before Sam was ready, she rose up on her knees and sank back down with an obscene squelch, setting up a fast-paced rhythm that Sam struggled to keep up with. A flush washed down his chest, sweat prickling his skin as he strained not to come too soon, but Gabriel was merciless. 

“Look at you, trying so hard,” she cooed mockingly. Her fingers tweaked his nipple and Sam gasped.

“Fuck, Gabriel,” he gasped, and Gabriel chuckled darkly. 

“That’s it, Sam,” she moaned, grinding her hips down at an angle that clearly pleased her because she let out a loud cry before losing control completely, riding him with abandon. “Don’t come!” she demanded, and damn it but Sam  _ tried _ . 

It was hard though, with Gabriel’s fast pace and the mesmerising sight of her breasts bouncing with her movements. Sam’s hips twitched but he was unable to thrust up into that tight heat.

“Gabriel!” Sam moaned, receiving a stuttering keen in response as Gabriel tightened her grip around his cock.

“Yeah, that’s it, Sam,” she said breathlessly, hand slipping through the sweat on his stomach. “That’s it, I’m there!” 

Sam felt her squeeze him as she gushed, coming with a scream that bled into the sound of the fire raging behind them and it was too much for Sam. 

  
  


“Gabriel, I’m-!”

Lifting off him, Gabriel stroked his slick cock, milking it as he released, shooting over his chest and abs. 

Gabriel pushed his hair back off his face, leaning down to kiss his forehead and Sam couldn’t help but nuzzle into the soft, sweaty flesh of her breasts pressed so close to his face. 

“You were so good for me, Sam,” she muttered softly and Sam shuddered in aftershock. 

“Yeah… That was pretty good…” Sam panted. “Gotta say this was a pretty good idea, Gabe.”

Gabriel huffed a laugh. “Gee, thanks. I guess I do have good ideas from time to time.”

“I’m still not sure why we’re in France, though.”

“Ambiance, Sam.”

“Mmhm. Can you please let me out of these goddamn restraints now, please?”

“Uggh, fine.” Gabriel snapped her fingers and the two were fully dressed outside Sam’s motel.

“What were you doing here earlier, anyway?” Sam asked, remembering the sight of her being shoved into the silver sedan.

Gabriel shrugged. “I came to see you and they caught me outside your room. I could have dealt with them then and there, of course, but I like it when people dig their own graves.”

“Oh. Well… you’re here now,” he pointed out.

“Sure am.”

“So… you wanna go again? I kinda wanna be on top this time.”

Gabriels laugh echoed through the parking lot as she followed Sam into the room.

**Author's Note:**

> There was no reason to add the ninth gate scene, I just thought Gabriel would think it was funny.


End file.
